Author: Ilana Williams

Ilana Williams is a mom to a wild toddler boy, and two Australian cattle dogs. She is a firefighter's wife to the best husband in the world, and is creating a life of intention through helping others achieve their fitness and financial dreams.

Never will you see a more compelling cross-section of culture than in a Jackson, WY bar, mid-week in late March. Tourists in heels and trending wardrobes, local affluent ranchers in wool hats and scuffed boots, young plaid-shirted-skinny-jean-wearing twenty-something’s share the dance floor with retired travelers and women in heels and leopard-print, two-stepping with cowboy hats and pearl snap shirts.

Bluegrass music streams from the stage. An old drum set advertises “One Ton Pig” in peeling vinyl on the bass drum. The band sounds like a mix between Reckless Kelley and Chris Knight with a solid Irish foundation. Every band member wears a plaid shirt and either a flat-brimmed ball cap or squats, thick-framed glasses. The walls of the bar are adorned with bordello style paintings of “the Woman in Red” and bronze statues of pin-up style women in varying stages of undress, participating in activities from fishing to skiing to bathing in a galvanized livestock trough, and glisten under the display lights on shelves.

The bar at The Wort Hotel is inlaid with 2032 uncirculated 1921 silver dollars.
Wyoming Whiskey and Koltiska (both local favorites in the state that’s been described as a “small town with long streets”). Waiters scurry to and fro with martinis and antelope Gyros, cheese plates and elk sliders, Coors Light and Snake River microbrew.

Outside, the snow that melted in the spring sunshine is freezing as temperatures dive below freezing. Snow bunnies eagerly await tomorrow’s snow storm, while ranchers calving their herds curse the freezing temperatures and pray for fair weather. As for me, I pray for clear roads and the arrival of Sandhill cranes to announce the coming of spring.

Driving north across the frozen sagebrush and fallow farm fields, across oxbows of frozen rivers and along streets shuttered on a Sunday morning, we pull into the terminal at the Riverton Regional Airport in Riverton, WY. An unattended 15-minute parking lane sits vacant, directly in front of the entrance doors to the one terminal. Mounted mule deer, mountain lions, Sandhill cranes, mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and elk peer down at weary travelers with glass eyeballs and frozen countenance. Security is a room 5’ wide by 10’ long, and the singular airline gate has 10 folding chairs set up along the perimeter of an L-shaped room. Through the glass windows, frozen Tarmac stretches away as snow dances across the black and yellow of the runway. In the distance, flat prairie abruptly dead-ends in the sagebrush foothills, forcing heavenward to breathtaking heights of craggy stone and unforgiving glaciers.

Ten passengers emerge from the terminal onto the Tarmac and ascend, one-by-one, up the five steps to the cabin of the prop plane. Passengers are arranged into ten of the available 18 seats for weight distribution, stoically faced, as the pilot and co-pilot make preparations, entirely visible through the door-less entryway to the cockpit. One seat on each side of the aisle and 9 seats deep is the entire volume of the plane. A small service dog and his companions occupy the three seats at the back; a blonde woman traveling to New Orleans inflates her fuzzy, pink neck pillow; a soon-to-be-father reads Pregnancy for Dummies two seats up from me and across the aisle.

Over Colorado, snow and a fogbank settle into the valleys, creeping into the canyons like a giant inland sea. Island hills break the surface, or appear ghost-like under the clouds like unseen pods of whales or prehistoric mastodon. Clouds and snow in the mountains form the appearance of giant advancing ice sheets, plowing boulders and carving giant crevasses with their sheer force and might. Saber-tooth cats stalk herds of wooly mammoth through the mountains and down to the edge of the foggy sea.

Civilization disappears as we soar over the cresting clouds, breaking in and out of the waves as though in the belly of a giant whale. Rib bones encircle the cabin as we peer out through tiny windows, looking down onto waves of clouds and imagining the world beneath the surface. An albatross descends, several miles south, and soars westward, barely cresting the waves, as we dive beneath the murky surface toward the ocean floor below. Schools of fish travel single-file along straight or curving paths in the aquatic vegetation. The air control tower looms ghostly and frozen, like a castle in a fishbowl, as we dive to the whale-dock with all the other passenger-carrying whales. Icicles and frozen fog form algal colonies on the trees, roofs, and bushes along the runway, and in the distance the ocean floor rises to meet the surface of the inland sea.

My coworker – the lovely Ms. Julia Stuble – was asked to contribute to the Simpson Forum on one of the Wyoming news sites – WyoFile. She has shared incredible insight into the “vibrant and beautifully complicated Wyoming political identity.” An excellent read, and one – I’m sure – that many of us can relate to, regardless of our origins or residence.

Separated by time and space what continues to stick with me are the images I carry in my mind. Africa has left its marks deep under my skin where only I know to look. But I suppose this is true for all the significant events of my life: working for Nols, the CDT, training my horses, and Nikki They all have left tail-tell sign as indelible as the blood trail of the first elk I shot. I suppose I am not the only one who can read these signs. They must show up on how in how I walk, in the joy in my face as I watch a kudu cow come to drink, her over sized ears swiveling to catch the sounds of my breath. The twinge of sweet pain as we eat our wild game, and the way my horse comes to me when he could walk away…

I have always loved putting up for winter. When I was young, it was always jam. Blackberry jam from hand-picked berries ripened inland from the coastal fog that swallowed the headlands in the summer – creeping up the craggy ocean cliffs and settling in the branches of the redwoods. We would drive east toward the sun, through the dappled light of the dense forests; on roads that curved and ambled under giant redwoods on pavement slick from the damp. We would reach the sunlight and, in the dry Mediterranean heat, would sweat under our sunhats as thorns stabbed our fingers and the regular sound of berries dropping in the buckets filled the air. All the scents of summer were amplified in the close heat. The cool damp scent of creek bottoms floated up on the breeze and mingled with the rich, earthy aroma of cows. Pungent mint crushed underfoot spiced the dusty air.

Once we made it home with what wasn’t consumed en route, we would rinse the berries and boil them down with sugar. Jars clinked in the boiling water as they sterilized and country music on the FM radio crackled through the speakers as Vince Gill, George Strait, and Leann Rimes serenaded us from the living room stereo. Sometimes, when the fog had receded and was sulking somewhere on the ocean horizon, we would open the top of the dutch door in the kitchen and the scent of lavender from the planter boxes on the deck would waft in on the breeze. The jam jars were filled and we would retire to the porch with ice in our drinks and listen for the ping of sealing lids.

Since growing up and moving out on my own, I get an itch deep down in my memory that starts in August. Most years, the produce to do my own canning comes from the farmers market, but this year I have my own garden. I started six tomato plants indoors from seed last spring and watched them slowly mature as snow blanketed the world. The learning curve for tomatoes in my area has been quite steep, but trial and error (actually, quite a few successes) has yielded a total of 14 pounds of tomatoes – minus the ones eaten in hand as I stand between the plants with juices dripping down my forearm. And they’re still flowering.

For fear of losing my crop of harvested tomatoes, I canned my first batch of tomatoes this evening. How ironic that preparing for the frigid days of winter must start in the heat of an Indian summer. A stove full of boiling water on a hot summer afternoon will be a distant memory as I make lasagna, sauces, and casseroles or fill my Crockpot with canned tomatoes from my summer garden as the snow hurls itself against the windows. The same can be said for gathering and stacking firewood. The American writer and philosopher Henry David Thoreau said, “If you chop your own wood, it will warm you twice.”

Canning this evening was only part of what is to come from my garden, but was a good start with two pints and three half pints of chopped tomatoes. The color and aroma of a garden fresh tomato is unlike anything else and I look forward to the lingering taste of summer as I listen to the January wind and the bubbling sounds of dinner.

As I listen to the ping of my jars sealing in the kitchen, I am so thankful for the bounty coming forth from my garden. Thankful, also, for the childhood experiences etched into my soul that cause me to reach into my cupboards for jars and lids as the days begin to shorten an the leaves begin to change. Perhaps it is something deeper than my own experiences – an evolutionary draw from an ancestral past that is passed down from generation to generation, sometimes suppressed, but nevertheless present in each of us.

My husband is an Eagle Scout and a wildland firefighter, so being prepared is a pretty big deal around here. Last year we bought a house at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains and the area surrounding our home is a combination of sagebrush and Rocky Mountain juniper. The juniper is very dense and often leaves very little soil moisture for much understory vegetation. Juniper is an excellent carrier of fire due to naturally occurring oils in the needles, even when the fuel moisture is high, and it is so dense around our house and the hillsides are so steep, it’s like living at the top of a chimney stacked high with tinder. If we ever had a fire, our whole subdivision would be obliterated. The other aspect of my husband’s job is to coordinate the FireWise program for all 23 counties in the state of Wyoming and manage the Federal grants program for fuels reduction in the state.

Last year we applied with our county to become a FireWise property for a number of reasons. 1) Always be prepared. 2) Each county has a coordinator to work with individual landowners to create a management plan to make their homes fire safe, or FireWise. The coordinator came to our house and worked with us to develop a plan for thinning the trees around the house to a safe distance and density to reduce the chance of our home burning in the event of a wildfire. Once we complete the work agreed to in the plan, we get monetarily reimbursed for time spent cutting trees and burning piles, and any direct costs are reimbursed. 3) Aside from being prepared in the event of a wildfire, when firefighters are working in the area they do what is called “structure triage.” Structure triage means they go from home to home in the area (if time and resources allow) and do what they can to prepare the house for fire in the area. This includes removing wood piles, deck furniture, and grills with propane tanks to a safe distance from the siding; cutting back vegetation from under the porches and next to the houses and scattering brush so it doesn’t linger after it burns. If a home has been prepared by the landowners, the firefighters will do what they can for the house and/or stay near the home (if safe and feasible) to help protect it. If the landowner has done no work to reduce fuel around the house, there is a good chance the firefighters won’t spend time preparing around the house if there is too much work to do, too much risk to the firefighters, or no chance to save the home. In addition to clearing trees from around the house, we also spent quite a lot of time along the driveway. Our driveway is kind of a hairy beast and ascends at a steep angle with a sharp hairpin turn in the middle of it. Firefighters will not risk their own safety to protect or prepare a house if they will be put at risk, so if the driveway has the potential to be a safety hazard (dense brush or trees, too narrow, no turn around, etc.) they won’t venture up. We spent some time widening the turn-around at the house, as well as removing brush on the sides of the driveway. Hopefully, none of this will ever be tested by a wildfire, but if it is, we want to give our house the best chance of surviving and encourage the men and women fighting the fire to do what they can to prevent our house from burning.

My husband left this afternoon for his first fire assignment of the season on the Lime Gulch fire outside of Colorado Springs. We were out of town and drove home this morning so he could leave for Colorado and on the drive we were talking about the event of an evacuation should a fire start near our house. The following is our family preparation and evacuation plan for 2013. For additional information and templates (some of which I have used myself) please visit Your Own Home Store: Survival Kit Ideas.

PREPARATION:

Check attic and crawl space vents in house and garage – one of the main causes of homes burning is embers getting caught in the attic or under the house. Close crawl space/basement ventilation and check attic vents to determine if screen size is large enough to allow flying embers to enter the attic. Reducing the size of the screen or ventilation opening can prevent larger, hotter embers from becoming lodged in the attic and igniting the home.

Remove propane tank from gas grill on the porch and store in garage when not in use

Remove deck furniture pillows and umbrellas from the deck when not in use and store inside (garage, house, crawl space, etc.)

Sign up for reverse 9-1-1 from the city or county. We live in a rural area, so the county sheriff’s department initiates the reverse 9-1-1 call. If you live in town, sign up through the police department

Clear any bushes or plants from under the porch and along the house that are dead and dry. Keep any plants around the house well irrigated and properly pruned. This includes keeping grass short and green.

EVACUATION:

I have put together an evacuation plan and checklist should we need to evacuate. Every family will have a different list of important items, but the main idea is to know what needs to go, assign who gathers what, and have it written down. We have a coat closet next to the front door where I have staged our evacuation kit. On the upper shelf is a duffel bag which contains the following:

Emergency First Aid and Toiletries Kit

Emergency phone numbers and important information sheet

3 pairs boxers

3 pairs underwear

6 pairs socks

4 t-shirts

2 sweatshirts

2 pair jeans

Zebra print ball cap (obviously identifying and hard to miss)

Umbrella

Day-Glo Orange emergency vest

Towel

Leather gloves

2 pair knit gloves

The sheet of emergency phone numbers and important information contains family phone numbers, vehicle registration and insurance policy information, health insurance information, doctors phone numbers, and phone numbers of friends nearby. It isn’t something you want to think about, but if your house burns down you’ll be contacting your insurance carrier to file a claim and need that information. Additionally, should someone be hurt or need medical attention, it’s good to have the medical information in more than just one location. I have also backed up this file on Dropbox – an online cloud-based data storage location that I can access from any computer or my phone. Another good online backup and document/note storage program is Evernote.

In the First Aid and Toiletries Kit I have packed the following:

Ibuprofen

Tylenol

Sunscreen

Band aids

Hand sanitizer

Neosporin

Medical tape

Wound dressing

Pepto Bismol

Dramamine

Chapstick

Bug repellent

Shampoo/conditioner

Soap

Contact lens solution and cases

Extra contacts for each of us, labeled

Toothpaste

Toothbrushes

Tampons

Dental floss

Emergency heating pack

Q-tips and cotton balls

Emergency electrolyte powder

Deoderant

Extra prescription medication (if needed)

Next to the duffel bag of personal items is a box with non-perishable food and 4 gallons of water. All of this stays for the whole summer and doesn’t get raided for any event that isn’t the evacuation of our family due to wildfire or any other emergency.

I have also made two checklists for us of items to collect and pack should we get the call to evacuate. I made two lists – one in the event that we have 15 minutes or less and must leave RIGHT THIS MINUTE:

Ilana

Three filing boxes

Mortgage packet

2 external hard drives

Computer with charging cable

Wedding rings

4 Gallons water

Food box

Emergency duffel bag

2 pairs running shoes

2 pairs hiking boots

Nick

Small dog crate from garage

Dog duffel bag with medical records

Dog leash

Dog bed

Dog food

Wedding photo with signed frame

Close windows and blinds

Close interior doors in house

The Fremont County Sheriff’s Department has a great webpage detailing what to do to prepare your home before you evacuate. I have listed to close windows and blinds and interior doors, and here’s why: fire produces convective, radiant, and direct heat. Convective heat is the transfer of heat from rising hot air and gasses – this is what makes fire race up hill as vegetation is heated and dried out by heated air and gas and moisture is forced from the vegetation, making it receptive to burning. Drafts and wind can influence convective heat by drawing hot air, which is why closing the interior doors in the house is suggested. By closing interior doors, drafts inside the home are reduced. Radiant heat is heat released in all directions from an burning object – this is why you get warm sitting next to a camp fire and nearby fire can heat up the outside of your home or even heat furniture and draperies through windows. For the most part, it’s possible to reduce the effect of radiant heat inside the home by drawing blinds on all the windows. Finally, conduction is the process by which heat is transferred by direct contact. Removing flammable objects from directly touching the home during the preparation phase of Emergency Preparedness can reduce losses from heat conduction.

I also expanded the above list to include other items we might want to take if we have longer to pack – say one hour:

Ilana

Three filing boxes

Mortgage packet

2 external hard drives

Computer with charging cable

Wedding rings

4 Gallons water

Food box

Emergency duffel bag

2 pairs running shoes

2 pairs hiking boots

Recipe boxes

Grandpa’s Marine keepsake album

Family quilts (1 from couch, 2 from cedar chest)

Family pocket watch

Diplomas

Nick

Small dog crate from garage

Dog duffel bag with medical records

Dog leash

Dog bed

Dog food

Wedding photo with signed frame

Eagle Scout frame and mirror

Special photographs

Photo albums

Family keepsakes

I listed the items by rank of importance with the idea that you go down the list and if you run out if time, you’ll have the most important things first. When we have some time I am planning to do a practice run through and time us as a team in collecting what needs to be gathered, as well as by myself since there’s a good chance I’ll be the only one home. Additionally, I have templates for emergency information, and for our dog. I created the dog ID page when we took her to be boarded since she has an annoying habit of escaping. The ID page includes a photograph of her, as well as her important information – physical description, AVID ID number, rabies ID number, vet contact information, our contact information, medical needs, etc. If you would like a copy of either of these templates, please leave me a comment and I can email them to you. This is also great for young kids should the unspeakable occur and your child become lost or kidnapped. Keep the photo up to date and take copies with you when you’re out of town.

This is the first time I’ve put the time and effort into this sort of emergency preparation. Natural catastrophes of any kind are scary as shit. There is so much anxiety and stress and fear running rampant in these situations and the best thing you can do is be prepared. I urge you to take the time (this took me 2 hours by myself) to make a list of important things, put them somewhere accessible, and print out a few lists. Even if you only consolidate your essential documents into one place that you can grab as you leave in an evacuation will make your life so much easier. Mother nature will have her way whether or not you’re ready, so take a few minutes to make a list; plan an afternoon with your family and make sure everyone knows the drill, what to take, and where to meet.

Every region has natural disasters and summer is ours. Please pray for the firefighters and families affected by the fires in Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, and California. I know tornado season and hurricane season are either already here or fast approaching. Think about where you live and what you will need to take with you to keep yourselves safe.

For more information about FireWise programs in your area, please visit their web page at http://www.firewise.org/ for information about making your home and community a FireWise community. They have great resources for homeowners. Wyoming State Forestry recently published a great series of articles in cooperation with the University of Wyoming called Living with Wildfire in Wyoming. Additionally, you can contact your State Forestry agency for more information on cost share and funding for fuels mitigation in your area.